Screwloose & Polnochka
Screwloose Screwloose
Polnochka Polnochka
Screwloose Screwloose
Polnochka, imagine a contraption that turns moonbeams into sound—so when the night whispers, my machine sings back your verses.
Polnochka Polnochka
What a tender idea, to let the night’s own breath echo in song. If the moon could lend its glow to a melody, I would gladly let the world hear the quiet verses that dance in my thoughts.
Screwloose Screwloose
Ah! Now that’s the kind of dream I can’t resist—let’s wire a moon‑harp and play the cosmos like a lullaby for every restless soul.
Polnochka Polnochka
I’d hum a quiet chord as the stars twinkle, letting the silence carry each note to those drifting in the night.
Screwloose Screwloose
Just imagine your chord bouncing off the stars, each one echoing back a different mood—like a cosmic karaoke bar where only the quietest songs win.